


Stress Baking

by Cielestine_de_Winter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Oblivious Stiles Stilinski, Pack Mom Stiles Stilinski, stiles stress bakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24459811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cielestine_de_Winter/pseuds/Cielestine_de_Winter
Summary: An off handed comment from Scott has Stiles scrambling to do anything to think about a certain dark hair Alpha who is away on pack negotiations.Someone recently posted a prompt asking for clueless Stiles until someone points it out to him and then it is the only thing Stiles can focus on.  I hope this works!!!
Relationships: Derek Hale/ Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 10
Kudos: 811





	Stress Baking

“Hey buddy,” Scott said patting Stiles’s shoulder. “You going to be okay?”

Stiles tore his eyes away from where the Camaro was disappearing in the distance. “Yea, I’m great.”

Scott studied him for a minute.

Stiles’s stomach rolled. “What?” Scott had that look he got when he was trying to sooth one of his patients.

“If you want to talk about,” Scott motioned in the direction of the Camaro. “I’m here. You know there’s no judgement dude.”

Stiles frowned. “I thought we both agreed that Sourwolf was an asshat of the first order. Where wouldn’t the judgement be in that?”

Scott scrubbed his face with his hand and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Here we go” before turning and facing Stiles. “Look, you’re 25. Maybe stop with all the pigtail pulling?”

“The _what_ ?” Stiles exclaimed completely mystified.

Scott tilted his head and studied Stiles’s guileless face. “You know, the constant flirting you and Derek do with each other. Don’t you think it’s time to put in or pull out?”

“First off, I don’t think that’s how that saying goes. Second off, what in the hell are you talking about?” Stiles demanded. “I do not flirt with Derek Hale.”

Scott was surprised at Stiles’s level of obliviousness. “Stiles. Dude. You guys flirt all the time.”

“We _WHAT_?” The shock on Stiles’s face couldn’t be faked. Suddenly Scott felt a little bad. It might be possible that Stiles actually _didn’t_ know.

“Um. You know what? Never mind. I need to go do a thing for Deaton. See ya.” Scott said in a rush of words. Then, without a trace of remorse, he used his werewolf abilities to run away from where his life long friend proceeded to have his big gay freak out in the middle of his driveway on an early Tuesday morning.

  
  
If there was one thing Stiles was good at, it was staying busy. Busy hands and all that. The pack watched in shocked amusement as Stiles indexed a quarter of the Kazuki Bestiary (that was in ancient formal kanji. Previous to Derek’s departure, Stiles hadn’t known any kanji), reinforced the wards around the entire territory of Beacon Hills which was much more massive than just the town (Deaton said it would exhaust him, Stiles did it one night and was clamoring for more the next day), and cooking enough freeze and bake meals and desserts so that each pack members’ freezer was filled, including Derek’s massive chest freezer that has been empty previously.

Scott, being the best friend he was, didn’t mention his conversation with Stiles to anyone. But the pack knew of Derek’s trip and drew their own conclusions. Which was not to say the pack didn’t take advantage of Stiles’s newfound need to be constantly busy. Lydia, Allison, and Erica pulled Stiles away for a weekend of spa treatments, shopping, and movies. Thus leaving him with a new hair style, a new wardrobe, and an insanely complicated outlook on what women find romantic.

Jackson, in a baffling display of something like human emotion, would pull Stiles away from his books, his magic, or the kitchen to run or more often than not beat on each other until Stiles was so exhausted he could sleep a few hours.

Which was not to say that Stiles missed any deadlines for his next book. He was pretty sure his editor was a real demon from hell who he didn’t want to cross. Ever. And while he spent all his energy and thoughts on not thinking about any particular werewolf, he managed to finish his book early and sketch out the next two.

Which was great.

So great.

Awesome even.

So awesome that after four weeks of this, Scott was on the phone begging Derek to wrap things up faster and get back. “It’s like he’s on lethal doses of Ritalin,” Scott said shuddering. Stiles had a doctor in 6th grade who made the mistake of prescribing a low dose of the medication. It was like living with an Animaniac. Scott still had nightmares about it sometimes. “You’ve got to get home. Like now. I don’t know how long he’s going to be able to keep this up.”

“I’ll leave the car with Cora and get the red eye. I’ll see you in a few hours,” Derek said before disconnecting.

Scott opened his eyes and watched his best friend lean over his kitchen table and piping filling onto insanely delicious wafers. Scott would know, he had already had about a hundred of them. “Dude, you’re going to take over the world one pastry at a time if we don’t figure this out,” he breathed.

Stiles continued piping, listening to the audiobook blasting from his earbuds. Were 6 flavors enough? Maybe he should mix up another three batches just in case.

  
  
It started off as a simple project, really. Stiles tended his garden in his spare time which he had very little of on purpose. But on one of those rare nights when his eyes didn’t close before his head hit the pillow, he bounced outside. So, gardening.

It wasn’t until John put his hand on Stiles’s shoulder that he noticed their small back yard was now an epic garden of Eden complete with a fish pond and fully matured fruit trees. The pack quickly agreed that Stiles was not allowed to garden unattended.

Unfortunately, this agreement didn’t take into account Stiles’s insanely good cooking and plentiful macaroons. A few hours after Scott’s frantic call to Derek, Isaac, Allison, and Scott fell asleep on guard duty, allowing Stiles to escape into the Preserve where he had a vague idea of pouring some of his excess magic into the wards or something. Anything really, to keep his mind focused and not think about things that shouldn’t be thought of.

Stiles recognized his path as the path to the Nemeton and allowed himself to be slightly bitter about it. Yes, of course the path to the grove of the sentient tree would be easy to find now, because why the hell not?

Stiles knew a trap when he saw it.

Stiles crouched down in front of the Nemeton. “So, I’m down to mind melding with a tree,” he sighed scrubbing his face with his hands.

“Well, if you really have your heart set on it…”

“Derek!” Stiles jumped up and stared at the man who had absolutely not taken up even moment of his time since they had last seen each other. “You’re back! Holy cow, you’re…. Wow…”. Derek was wearing his tight dark blue jean and his leather coat. His scruff was slightly longer than usual giving him a wilder look.

He looked fucking edible.

And thanks to Scott, that’s all Stiles could think about now.

“I found Scott and the others passed out at your house. Dinner and pastries?”

“It was a rough couple of weeks.”

“I’m sure.” Derek looked at him appraisingly. “So. Curly fries and milkshakes?”

Stiles smiled. “What? You’re offering curly fries? Lead on.” Stiles dusted himself off and stood.

Derek’s eyes scanned Stiles’s body.

“What?” Stiles asked, extremely self conscious. Derek’s eyes were appreciative.

“You look good,” Derek said casually as he started toward the Camaro. “I heard from Lydia that she took you shopping.”

Stiles winced. “I really wanted to text you, but I tried to control myself. I know you were busy.”

Derek open the passenger side door for Stiles. “I am never too busy for you.”

Stiles’s thoughts came to a standstill.

_Derek was never to busy for him? Since when?_ Stiles struggled to control his heart rate. He sternly cautioned himself against reading into the situation.

_Yea, cuz it’s not like there’s a chance in hell that Derek Hale would ever want me like that. It was ridiculous to even think about it. Derek was smart, kind, loyal, noble…. God, I could go on for days. Seriously, I hadn’t even considered it before Scott said something, but now I can’t stop thinking about it. Because in my most epic fantasy, I’ve never pictured being with someone as amazing as Derek. People like Derek don’t end up with losers like me._

_Oh my god! I have no idea if he’s even gay! I can’t believe I’m perving on this man. I am really the worst. If I can’t get this under control, I’m going to have to leave. Be a mountain man somewhere. Far, far away. Yea, that’s a great idea._

“That’s a terrible idea.”

Stiles paused while bringing another curly fry to his mouth. He had been so wrapped up in his internal freak out that he hadn’t noticed they arrived at the diner or had ordered. Stiles cleared his throat. “Um, what?”

Derek stole a fry and popped it in his mouth. “Leaving to be a mountain man somewhere. Rural broadband is spotty at best and you’d lose your mind if you didn’t have the internet.”

“How much of that did I say aloud?” Stiles wondered if he could go run in traffic.

“You’ve been mumbling to yourself since we got to the car,” Derek said with the slightest smile. “I don’t smell your Adderral; you’ve skipped a few doses, haven’t you?”

Stiles blushed and searched for mockery in Derek’s face.

There was none. Instead there was fondness.

Stiles didn’t let himself hope. “Like I said, it’s been a hard few weeks. Tell me about the negotiations.”

Derek leaned back and lifted his formidable eyebrows. “Not a chance. You and me. Based on the last few minutes, you’ve had some kind of realization while I’ve been away. Scott, huh?”

“We aren’t seriously going to talk about this, are we?” Stiles was horrified.

“You’ve told me I need to work on my communication skills,” Derek answered easily.

“And this is what you start with?!”

Derek just watched him steadily.

“Look, if you’re trying to tell me to get lost, kudos to you for doing it in a public place. Your last few breakups were disastrous.” Stiles studied Derek’s face. “But it’s cool dude, I’m not planning on going psycho on you. I say we stay friends.”

“I don’t want to be your friend.”

Stiles laughed. “You’ve never wanted to be my friend,” he said rolling his eyes. “Seriously though, think of the pups, Derek. If we stop talking to each other you know it would mess up their zen.”

“You want to stay friends for the kids?” Derek said flatly.

“Sure. I’ll tone it down,” Stiles said picking up the bill. “I like to think I’ve matured since Lydia.” He stood up and paid.

Derek followed him out the door. He stood by the passenger side door without opening it.

Stiles glanced up, a question on his lips.

Derek grabbed Stiles by the front on his shirt and pressed him against the Camaro. He pressed their bodies together and leaned close so their lips were only inches apart. “My communication skills are shit,” he said and then kissed him.

Stiles caught on remarkably quick. The petal soft feel of Derek’s lips against his was replaced by the slick heat of his tongue. Stiles eagerly opened his mouth to get his first taste of Derek. He moaned and grabbed Derek by the back of the neck and held on. Derek smiled and pushed his leg between Stiles’s. Stiles gasped and Derek attacked his neck.

Stiles slowly became aware of red flashing lights and a siren. He quickly blinked and pushed Derek away as he spotted his Dad and Boyd leaning against their SUV watching them. Derek quickly stood and straightened his clothes.

“Okay, okay!” Stiles shouted. “We get the point.”

John chucked as Boyd walked around to turn off the lights and siren. “Son, maybe you should continue this somewhere not so… public?” He said with ill concealed laughter.

“Yea, we’re leaving,” Stiles said as Derek opened the car door.

“Have a good night. I won’t wait up,” John grinned. “Oh, and Derek, I expect you at Sunday dinner. You can bring steaks.”

“Yes, sir,” Derek said quickly as he quickly climbed in the Camaro and was careful to drive exactly the speed limit until they got to the loft. They sat in the car after Derek parked. Not moving.

After several long minutes Derek turned to Stiles. “I don’t want to be your friend because I want to be more. You are the furthest thing from a loser. Everything you said about me? I can say the same thing about you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Derek gave him a look. “Do you blame me? The pack says you’ve turned into a magical Martha Stewart since I’ve left. I’m thinking you didn’t take the realization of your feelings well. I’m glad you’ve had a few days to process.”

“Have you processed?”

“I’ve known my feelings since that night at the pool,” Derek said calmly. “Stiles, do you want to go out to dinner with me tomorrow?”

Stiles looked around blankly for a few minutes. “Really?”

Derek reached over and took Stiles’s hand. “Yes, really.” He squeezed the hand in his gently.

“Then, yea,” Stiles smiled shyly. “I’d like that.”

Derek smiled back. “What are you doing now?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“What about we go up and watch some movies?”

“Cuddling on the couch? I’m in. I have some new pastries I want you to try.”

Derek brought Stiles hand up and kissed it.


End file.
